Tour de France - Part Two
A 200-Mile Cycling Adventure
The elevation map of the route Rachel and I were following had shown that the first 30 miles of day one would be mostly uphill. Having started at sea level, the road had been climbing very gradually, but having completed 25 miles, we had not yet encountered anything that could be described as a hill.
We skirted around the edge of Lac du Drennec, a man-made reservoir and popular spot for fishing and boating. We had camped on the other side of this lake for three nights a few years ago.
There was an immaculately groomed sandy beach and beautiful clear water, so we stripped off and had a fantastic swim in our cycling shorts.
After drip-drying in the sun for a few minutes, we got dressed and cycled along the wooded shore of the lake for a mile or so before taking a right turn up through the trees.
I had downloaded a GPS file of the route to my watch, which meant a line on its screen showed me we were going in the correct direction and notified me if we strayed off course.
There are obvious positives about using GPS navigation: it’s very accurate and efficient and means you get to relax and enjoy the scenery, rather than having to check the map regularly and spend the rest of the time wondering if you are going the right way. But a major disadvantage of using GPS is that you never really have any sense of where you are travelling through or near to, and only see your route through a very narrow window.
It would be entirely possible to be metres from something very exciting but know nothing about it because you’ve had no need to look at a map.
I tried to counteract this before we set off by taking a good look at the route we were following on a map. If I hadn’t, we probably would have skirted around Lac du Drennec without realising it was where we camped a few years ago, and that it was a great spot for swimming.
I had also identified a really impressive church in one of the towns we were going to be cycling through - The Guimiliau Parish close - and I had made a mental note to stop and take a look when we passed.
‘Where is that church you were going on about?’ said Rachel.
‘I wasn’t going on about it. I mentioned it once. I think it must be coming up. Hold on, I’ll check.’
I pulled out my phone and opened Google Maps.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Apparently it was 10 miles back that way. We missed it.’
‘Oh. How good did it look?’
‘Definitely not 20-mile detour good.’
‘Good.’
We had just been celebrating the lack of hills when the road began to climb significantly ahead of us. It was far less steep than the hills that surround our house in Devon, but whereas those are mostly short and sharp, this one continued for several miles.
Towards the summit, the name GAUDU was painted all over the road, in honour of popular French cyclist David Gaudu.
This hill formed part of the route of Stage 1 of the 2021 Tour de France. David Gaudu was the local’s favourite as he was born and raised nearby.
Rachel and I were chatting together when a blue blur flew past us up the hill. It was a cyclist travelling faster uphill than we would have been if we were going downhill. He smiled and said something jolly in French, which probably translated as ‘eat my dust, losers!’ And then shouted ‘Tour de France!’
‘Tour de France!’ I shouted back.
He continued powering up the hill and was soon out of sight.
‘Maybe that WAS David Gaudu,’ I said.
‘Do you think it was?’
‘Maybe. It did look a bit like him. If I had my name printed all over a road, I think I would probably choose to cycle that hill regularly.’
‘Yeah, I suppose it would be good motivation.’
If you’re going to be overtaken at speed up a hill, it feels better if they are an elite cyclist.
Five minutes later, another cyclist flew past us. This guy was about 70 and breathing heavily, but still travelling at twice the speed of us.
‘Oh dear. Now I just feel really slow and unfit,’ said Rachel.
‘Maybe that was David Gaudu’s dad.’
